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Wednesday, 26 October 2016

Feiertag - Shedporn

Today is a holiday here, and this morning before going down to the pub for an afternoon of oompah band, beer and kasknödel I thought I'd clean up the workshop and have a muse. However, it's impossible to maintain indignation in a mancave, really quite impossible. That's the whole point of them. So with apologies, here's a little shedporn instead;

The workshop is in one of the side aisles of the middle floor of the 300 yo barn; under will be the microbrewery. Workbenches I made for peanuts from 200 x 40 Spruce (ripped as required) which costs £2/m here. Two English FAQs: (1) No, the rain or snow never comes though the gaps / holes / owl openings because the roof overhangs by at least four feet and (2) no, nothing rusts because the air is so much drier here than In England.

Spent the best part of my adult life in a workshop - precision engineering for the military mostly. Would you believe my first piece for what would become the Eurofighter Typhoon was back in '89. We did emergency work during Gulf War I - helicopters take such a beating in desert environments. Needless to say I don't have a 'mancave' and any spare time is spent walk/running the sercet paths* between the counties of Dorset, Somerset and Wiltshire.

*The paths used by King Alfred when he gathered his men to take on Guthrum's Great Army in AD 878.

- Long time hobby making picture frames and restoring furniture. But first I also need to make new windows for the house and build a kitchen (long story but local joiners won't reproduce thin framed historic windows ..)

- Yep they got lakes here but not for old diesel fishing boats ;( so buoys, lifejackets, mooring lines and a few boxes of marine spares are just here because I didn't want to leave them or throw them out and there was room in the truck

- Ah yes, this was the point of the clean-up. Pics taken when wood waste / empty boxes had been swept off the workbenches but not yet from the floor

England, is missing one of her sons lad. But have to say, I am chuffed for you, and the move seems to suit you, even that you're, I deem, actually loving it and that's all there is to say, when alus said and done.

I have never understood the almost primeval affair that men have with wood - the connection is almost genetic. It is almost impossible for me to pass a piece of useable wood and not wish to make it into something.